Desert Embers
by charmedlion22
Summary: Jaenarys and her sister have started the long journey to get Daenerys home, but they and their khalasar are surrounded by the Red Waste, with their numbers and resources falling. Will they carry on, or is all hope lost? And what will become of their newborn dragons? Find out in the second part of Fireborn.
1. Chapter 1

**Translations are at the bottom, and longer chapters are yet to come! Please enjoy the second part of Fireborn!**

* * *

The sun beats on my skin, but I've grown used to the discomfort. Flies buzz around the khalasar, a reminder that no one has bathed in close to a week of our last camp. Water is in short supply, most of it for the horses carrying what belongings we need. Any luxury Daenerys and I found in our time with the Dothraki is gone, a distant memory of what could have been if it weren't for the faults of men and blind love of women. In the month since the burning, I have begun to forget my dear friend's face and voice, only hearing her words. But Davvi is not truly gone, for she lives on the dragon currently nestling into my chest, her little talons holding onto the braiding of my short tunic. A sword and an arakh swing on my hips. They've been there since I asked Ser Jorah to train me, the tiring and long march be damned.

Caraxes trots next to me, neighing softly. "Shh. Shh." I comfort my stallion. "You are doing so well, my love." Almost nodding, he continues, strong and sure.

My sister walks in front of me, trying to feed Drogon. He does not eat, and my sister sighs in frustration. Beside me Doreah asks, "What did you brother say about them, Khaleesi?"

Answering for my sister, I snort. "Only that they could fly and would eat meat."

My sister nods. "He didn't tell you what kind of meat?" Dorothea presses.

Daenerys shakes her head. "Our brother didn't know anything about dragons. He didn't know anything about anything." Dany holds out her hand and Drogon flutters onto it, his mother putting him away in a box carried by a horse, who holds her other two with him. The white mare stumbles and falls in the front of the small khalasar and I rush forward with my sister, Dorothea closing the box.

The Dothraki back away as my sister kneels beside her beloved horse, petting the dying mare's face. "She was Drogo's first gift to me."

"I remember." I look at Jorah's solemn face, then kneel beside my sister, and on her shoulder.

"Daenerys?" I ask, and she looks at me.

"We promised to protect them. Promised them their enemies would die screaming. How do I make starvation scream?"

"A trick I never learned, I'm afraid." Jorah answers.

"Does it ever end?" Dany asks, looking at the wasteland before us.

"This is further east than I've ever been. But yes, Khaleesi, everything ends, even the Red Waste."

"And you're sure there's not other way?" A Dany asks I stroke her messy hair, kissing her temple.

Jorah sighs. "If we go south to the land of the Lhazareen, the Lamb Men will kill us and take your dragons." At his words I stroke Davvi's back, my dragon purring. "If we go west to the Dothraki Sea, the first khalasar we meet will kill us and take your dragons."

"No one will take our dragons." Dany declares, staring at Jorah.

A moment passes, then the man speaks quietly. "They are too weak to fight, as are your people."

"I am not." I declare, joining him in looking at our small gathering of supporters.

"Then you and your sister must be their strength." Jorah tells me. I rise and nod, hand still on my sister's shoulder.

"As you are mine." Dany tells him fondly, before turning to the Dothraki. "Zhey qoy qoyi!" Her bloodriders approach their Khaleesi. "Zhey Rakharo, zhey Aggo, zhey Kovarro. Fichi hrazef zinayi kishi. Vosma esemrasalat Caraxes. Ma yer adothrae tith;" she looks at Rakharo, "ma yer adothrae tith;" then to Aggo, "ma yer valshtith." The men nod, but Rakharo steps forward.

"Fin kisha fonoki, zhey khaleesi? Khalakki?" He looks to me.

"Vaes, che thiri che drivi. Ma verakasaris ma voji. Che ashefaes che tozaraes che Havazzhife Zhokwa. Ezo athchilar Athasaroon Virzetha hatif kishi, ma reki vekha yomme moon." I passionately order, finding strength in my words. Hope. They need to hear it, our all is lost.

Rakharo nods. "Varanno, gwe." He tells the other riders. I get a look from Ser Jorah before helping my sister stand, the two of us walking to where Rakharo is readying his horse.

"Rakharo." He turns to me, then my sister, who continues speaking. "Yer athzalar nakhoki kishi, zhey qoy qoyi."

"Anha vos oziyenek shafkea, zhey qoy qoyi." He promises.

My sister smiles. "You never have."

He looks around, worriedly. "This is bad time to start." He climbs onto his horse.

"Rakharo!" He looks down at me, and I take his elbow. "Dothras chek."

"Sek, Jaenarys." He promises, before riding east as he was commanded. I watch him leave with my sister, then walk to Irri to take her hand. The handmaid smiles at me, wiping away her tears. She points to the sky and I look up, watching as a red streak crosses through the clouds.

"A star, Princess." Irri tells me, Davvi's head popping up. My dragon climbs up to rest on my shoulder.

"Yes, Irri."

"What does it mean?"

I shrug, then take her hand. "It means luck will be coming our way."

"I pray to the gods you are right." She walks away and I sigh.

"Me too." Davvi makes a noise and I pull out a small piece of meat. She cranes her thin neck forward, sneezes, then unhappily chews. "I'm sorry, Davvi. I don't know how to help you." She keeps chewing and nuzzles into my neck, her comforting presence reminding me of my fallen friend, her namesake. "But we will figure it out. I promise."

* * *

 **Zhey qoy qoyi!** \- Blood of my blood!

 **Zhey Rakharo, zhey Aggo, zhey Kovarro. Fichi hrazef zinayi kishi. Vosma esemrasalat Caraxes. Ma yer adothrae tith; ma yer heshtith; ma yer** **valshtith.** \- Rakharo, Aggo, Kovarro. Take our remaining horses. You ride east; you southeast; and you northeast.

 **Fin kisha fonoki, zhey khaleesi? Khalakki?** \- What do we seek, khaleesi? Princess?

 **Vaes, che thiri che drivi. Ma verakasaris ma voji. Che ashefaes che tozaraes che Havazzhife Zhokwa. Ezo athchilar Athasaroon Virzetha hatif kishi, ma reki vekha yomme moon.** \- Cities, living or dead. Caravans and people. Rivers, or lakes, or the Great Salt Sea. Find how far the Red Waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side.

 **Varanno, gwe.** \- Right away, let's go.

 **Yer athzalar nakhoki kishi, zhey qoy qoyi.** \- You are our last hope, blood of my blood.

 **Anha vos oziyenek shafkea, zhey qoy qoyi.** \- I will not fail you, blood of my blood.

 **Dothras chek.** \- Ride well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Translations are at the bottom.**

* * *

 _I push against a stone wall, the air around me cold. But when it moves aside I see a vicious battle, blood flying everywhere and bodies falling. Men in gold fight men in silver and red. As I walk through the battlefield, I the blades sing through me as if I'm merely a ghost. In the center of the battle stands a man in gold. His hair is black, but his eyes the same violet as mine. And in his hand rests a silver and black bastard sword, the end of the hilt engraved with a firestone. "Jaenarys." He says, and suddenly the men around us disappear, leaving us alone._

 _"Who are you?" I ask, staring up at the monster of a man. "Where are we?"_

 _"Look around. Surely you've seen paintings of these battles. Surely your family told you your history." He speaks, and I look around._

 _We're on a cliff, the water below us harsh and rocky. "This is Massey's Hook." The man nods._

 _"I thought you would be smart." I hear a long, high note ringing through the air, turning around in a circle._

 _"This is a dream. I have to wake up."_

 _"Aye. But not quite yet. It calls to you." I look at him in confusion, before he lifts the sword. "You know this blade."_

 _"It was lost. I do not know why I keep dreaming of it."_

 _"Because it is yours."_

 _I snort. "The long march bust really be getting to me."_

 _The man stalks towards me, hand on my shoulder. "Blackfyre calls to you, Targaryen. It is yours to hold, yours to swing."_

 _"You are Aegor Rivers. Bittersteel." I gasp. "You had it last."_

 _"You will find it soon. Remember, your search begins with a call east."_

 _"'A call east?'" He nods, and suddenly I'm back in the cold corridor, frantically pounding against the wall. "No, no, please. I don't - I don't understand, I don't understand!"_

"I don't understand." I shoot up in my little shaded area, panicking, Dany frantically soothing my arms and trying to match out breaths. "I-I don't. Daenerys, I don't understand!"

"Neither do I. Skorion massitas, hāedar?" She asks in our mother tongue.

I clutch her hand, our khalasar staring in fear. "A dream, mandia."

"Quba?"

"Vestragon koston daor." I rest my head back against the hot stone, sighing.

"Do you want Davvi?" My sister asks tiredly, already settling down for more rest.

"Ēdrussis, Daenerys. Kostilus." I tell her soothingly, standing up shakily and walking over to where Davvi rests in her cage. She coos as she wakes up, nuzzling my hand. "Rytsas, zaldrītsos." She purrs back and climbs up my arm, the little scratch marks not bothering me as she settles against my breast once more, her wings spread. "Avy jorrāelan. Daorys jeme ōdrikilza."

* * *

Hours have past since I woke from my dream, and I spend the time helping the remaining khalasar drink and eat what little we have. They thank me in nods and sighs of relief, one boy even petting my dragon for comfort. My sister still sleeps, Jorah near her for protection. My arakh rests on my hip, but my sword lies next to Dany, in hopes that she could also protect herself. My mind is still stuck on my dream. It felt so real, as if I was there in the Fourth Blackfyre Rebellion. Aegor was holding Blackfyre, one of the lost family swords. It is unknown what happened to her after the battle - it was never seen again. Some say it was lost on the field, to covered in blood to find. Some say the Golden Suns - Aegor's mercenaries - took the weapon with them. So what is it presumably doing in the east? Is it even there?

Any further thought on what I had seen halted when I hear the growing sounds of hooves against dense sand. Caraxes neighs and I walk up to where he stands under a shelter made of sheets. "What is it?" Obviously, he does not respond, but as the other horse gets closer I see it has no rider.

Wait. That was Rakharo's steed.

I rush over to where Jorah is standing, staring at the red painted horse. My gods, is that blood?

Flies hum around a dripping satchel, and I can see hair sticking out. I cover my mouth as Jorah lifts it, noticing the roughly chopped hair, before setting it down and pulling out what was once Rakharo's growing braid. My sister takes my free hand, Davvi crawling to my back and nuzzling into my neck.

"You don't need to see this." Jorah tells us, but my sister shakes her head and walks over to the satchel.

"He is blood of our blood." She looks down at the severed head, then back up at Jorah. "Who did this?"

"Khal Pono, perhaps. Khal Jhaqo. They don't like the idea of a woman leading a khalasar."

"They'll like it less when we're done with them." I growl, standing behind my sister. "Pyryrzy daorunta zālagon." I promise her, and she nods.

Behind us, a woman starts to cry, and I watch sadly as Irri kneels before the satchel carrying the last remains of her love. As she weeps I kneel in front of her, my hands keeping her face focused on us. "Mori atthasish oakah moon!"

"Shh, shh." I run my hands through her hair. My sister settles her hand on the handmaid's hair as well.

"Affa, affa." She tells her. "Mori laz vos atthi oakah vosecchi."

"Jin tish mori!" Irri argues, sobbing. "Mori ogish ven mae ven rho. Mori avvirsosh khadoes moon. Me laz odothrae kimi mae she Rhaeshi Ajjalani avvos." My sister kneels with us, and we wrap our arms around the emotionally wounded girl.

"Affa. Kisha amariki vorsqoy ha maan. Majin anha astak yeraan asqoy, me-Rakharo adothrae kimi mae ajjalan." Dany promises her, and we hold the shaking Irri in our arms, her head between our necks as we stare at each other, matching fires burning in our eyes.

* * *

 **High Valyrian:**

 **Skorion massitas, hāedar?** \- What happened, little sister?

 **Mandia** \- older sister

 **Quba?** \- Bad?

 **Vestragon koston daor.** \- I cannot say.

 **Ēdrussis, Daenerys. Kostilus.** \- Sleep, Daenerys. Please.

 **Rytsas, zaldrītsos.** \- Hello, little dragon.

 **Avy jorrāelan. Daorys jeme ōdrikilza.** \- I love you. No one will harm you.

 **Pyryrzy daorunta zālagon.** \- They will burn.

 **Dothraki** :

 **Mori atthasish oakah moon!** \- They killed his soul!

 **Affa, affa. Mori laz vos atthi oakah vosecchi.** \- Shh… They cannot kill his soul.

 **Jin tish mori! Mori ogish ven mae ven rho. Mori avvirsosh khadoes moon. Me laz odothrae kimi mae she Rhaeshi Ajjalani avvos.** \- They did! They butchered him like an animal. They did not burn his body. He can never join his ancestors in the Night Lands.

 **Affa. Kisha amariki vorsqoy ha maan. Majin anha astak yeraan asqoy, me-Rakharo adothrae kimi mae ajjalan.** \- Shh. We will build him a funeral pyre. And I promise you, Rakharo will ride with his ancestors tonight.

 **Dothras chek.** \- Ride well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Translations are at the bottom. As always, I only own Jae and Davvi the dragon. Enjoy, and sorry for the late update!**

* * *

After the burning of Rakharo's pyre, Irri has been an inconsolable mess. Not that she has been crying. No, it is far worse. She has lost hope. So I've taken to holding her in my arms as we wait for the last two riders to return.

The first to come back is Aggo. He shakes his head and speaks to my sister as I give his horse what little water we have. Caraxes neighs, probably envious of the treatment, but I just pet his cheek and whisper words of love, as though he were a child able to understand.

"Shekh heshtith nem menat, Khalakki." Aggo tells me, comforting his own steed.

"Yer chomoe anna." He looks at me, surprised, and I pat his arm sadly. "Me nem vos yeri ziyenelat."

"Anha jif zhorre dothras alikh."

"Vo. Yer dothras chek, qoy qoyi." I argue, then gesture for him to sit in the shelter. "Athmithrar ajjin, Aggo."

"San athchomari yeraan, Khalakki." He bows his head in respect and moves to the shade, where Jorah welcomes him with a piece of dried horse.

"Princess, would you like to hold Davvi?" Dorothea asks. I smile and nod, walking with her to my dragon's cage. She opens it and I hold out my hand. Even with the little food she's had, Davvi has already begun to grow.

"Rytsas, raqnon." I greet sweetly, and Davvi makes a small roar in return. She spreads her wings, as if to fly, but only barely manages to hover over my arm before dropping down.

"Khalakki?" I turn to Irri, who still seems lost. "Laz anha qoralat Davvi?"

"Sek, gizikhven nayat." I allow, taking her hand. Davvi crawls over our interlocked hands and onto Irri's arm, purring. I smile at the sight, then walk over to Dany.

My sister looks to the east, waiting for our last bloodrider. By the look on her face, I can tell she is praying that Kovarro not meet the same end as loyal Rakharo.

"He will be fine." I try to assure her, and she takes my hand.

"I hope you are right. I don't think our khalasar can take much more."

"Daenerys, ēza vokēdre." I implore. "Without faith, we shall not persevere."

"I'm afraid it will take more than faith to survive." She sighs. "How do you remain so strong?"

"Because my sister does."

Just then, we hear the sound of approaching hooves. Dany and I turn back east, watching a Dothraki ride towards us. I unhook my arakh from my belt, ready to swing. A hand on my shoulder stops me. Kovarro appears before us, this time on a different horse, carrying new supplies. Which can only mean he has found us a safe haven.

"Jin vos sajo yeri." My sister remarks, gesturing to our bloodrider's new horse.

Kovarro proudly jumps off his black steed, walking towards us. "Me nem azh anhaan ki Senthisiri. Jin Fozaki Qarthoon." He informs us.

"Zhey Qarth?" Dany looks at me, silently asking if I know this city. I think back on my readings, but shake my head.

"Sen asshekhi tithaan, qisi havazzhifi." He explains, moving his hand with his words.

"Three days, could we make it?" I ask Dany, who nods.

She looks back at Kovarro. "Hash mori vazhi kishaan emralat?" She asks, looking hopeful that we have a potential home.

"Mori astish memori nem achomoe hash mori viddee Mayes Zhavvorsi, ma zhey Khalakki." He tells us, grinning.

I look back at Jorah. Honored to have us or not, we could be entering a trap in Qarth. "What do you know of Qarth?"

He sighs, stroking his chin with his fingers. "Only that the desert around their walls is called the Garden of Bones."

"Oh. Well, that seems pleasant." I look at my twin, who raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner.

"Everytime the Qartheen shut their gates on a traveler, the garden crows." I nod.

"Do we have any other choices?" Dany asks. "Any nearby cities?"

Jorah lowers his hand. "No, not unless we have a boat. I'm afraid Qarth may be our only choice." He turns to me.

"What do you think, Princess?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised. "Dany is the Khaleesi. I follow her."

"No." My sister argues, taking my hand. "You are a fierce leader. I need your help to decide our fate."

I nod, and look over to where Irri holds Davvi, the dragon resting in the sun. "If Qarth has welcomed us, we must respect that. If it ends up being a trick and we perish - well, we'd do that waiting here in the Red Waste." I look to my sister, voice strong. "We must go. There is no other option."

"Very well." She turns to our khalasar. "Kisha dothrae zhey Qarth." She orders, and the people rise and grab only what they need, readying our three horses for the journey. I take Davvi from Irri and put her back in her cage, right next to where Drogon rests. They purr at each other, and I smile at the bond they share.

With my sister's nod we start for the long walk, anxious to find safety rather than more death.

* * *

I walk between Irri and Dorothea, both girls' arms interlocked with mine. Despite our appearance and sore feet, the khalasar has been relying on hope for energy to continue. It has worked, none of us falling - not even the oldest and most tired.

Finally, we reach the great city. It's walls are tall and appear almost untouchable, as though the Qartheens live in complete safety. As Jorah promised us, the desert around it remains fast, and we passed the fossilized remains of people before, to undesired to be allowed behind the walls.

We stand before the gates, and they open. But what we do not expect are the amount of guards leading the way, walking around who I can only assume are the Thirteen, protecting the Elders from the foreigners.

"I thought we were welcome." Dany looks to Jorah, and I step from between the two girls to stand at his side, seemingly ready for anything.

"If you heard a Dothraki horde was approaching your city, you might do the same, Khaleesi."

"'Horde'?" She asks in disbelief, and I snort in amusement. The guards stop marching, and Dany straightens herself as a portly man approaches, leaving the other twelve behind him.

"Our names are Daenerys -" Before she can finish her introductions, the man interrupts.

"Daenerys Stormborn and Jaenarys Fireborn of the House Targaryen."

"You know us, my Lord?" I ask.

"Only by reputation, Princess." He tells me. "And I'm no Lord, merely a humble merchant."

 _Who dresses himself as a Lord_ , I think to myself.

The merchant looks to my sister. "They call you the Mother of Dragons, and your sister Dragonmother." I blink at the strange new titles.

"And what shall we call you?" Dany asks, voice strong.

"Oh, my name is quite long and quite impossible for _foreigners_ to pronounce." He informs us haughtily. I know we are his guests, but he's a pretentious prick. "I am simply a trader of spices." He turns slightly to his compatriots. "But we are the Thirteen, charged with the governance and protection of Qarth." He explains. "The greatest city that ever was or will be."

I snort under my breath, getting a small twitch of a smile from Jorah before his face becomes neutral once more. Fortunately, the pretentious prick does not notice.

"The beauty of Q-u-arth is legendary -" My sister starts, and the merchant makes to correct her pronunciation.

" _Qarth_." He smiles.

"Qarth."

"Might we see the dragons?" He asks, and suddenly I have a bad feeling about this.

My sister shares my sentiments, and turns her head to the merchant. "My… friend. We have traveled far. We have no food, no water. Once I see our people fed I would be honored -"

"Forgive me, Mother of Dragons, but no man alive has seen a living dragon. Some of my more skeptical friends… refuse to believe your children even exist." The man counters. "All we ask is the chance to see for ourselves."

"We are not liars." I firmly tell him, small frame shifting to appear larger.

"Oh, I don't think you are. But as I've never met you before, my opinion on the matter is of limited value."

"Where I come from," my sister smiles, "guests are treated with respect, not insulted at the gates."

I shake my head at her attitude, and the merchant starts to turn away. "Then perhaps you should return to where you come from. We wish you well."

Dany and I march after him. "What are you doing?" She asks.

"You promised to receive us." I finish.

He turns. "We have received you. Here we are, and here you are."

"If you do not let us in, all of us will die." My sister reminds him.

"Which we shall deeply regret. But Qarth did not become the greatest city that ever was or will be by letting Dothraki savages through its gates." He bows his head and walks back to join the others. As they begin to walk away, a storm rages in my sister.

"Khaleesi, please be careful." Jorah requests, but my sister pays him no mind.

"Thirteen!" She yells, as the guards slam down their spears. "When our dragons are grown we will take back what was stolen from us. And destroy those who wronged us."

"And right now," I add, voice carrying over the empty land, "you are _wronging_ us. I promise our revenge will not be quick. You will suffer, you will cry out in pain, and you will _burn_." My rage explodes from me, something that hasn't truly happened since my brother was still alive.

"We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground. Turn us away, and we will burn you first." My sister finishes the threat, our hands interlocked. The Thirteen stop and turn, the portly merchant approaching us.

"Ah." He starts. "You are true Targaryens. Only, as you said a moment ago, if we don't let you into the city, you will all die. And so…"

Before he can finish, a man with skin the color of chocolate walks to him. "Retreating in fear of little girls is unbecoming of the greatest city that ever was or will be."

"The discussion is over, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. The Thirteen have spoken." The spice merchant argues.

"I am one of the Thirteen, and I am still speaking."

"The girls threaten to burn our city to the ground and you would invite them in for a cup of wine?"

Xaro stands tall and strong. "They are the Mother of Dragon and Dragonmother. Do you expect them to watch their people starve without breathing fire? I believe we can allow a few Dothraki through our gates without dooming our city. After all, here I am, a savage from the Summer Isles, and Qarth still stands."

"Our decision is final." The merchant declares.

"Very well." Xaro turns to us and walks forward. "I invoke soumai." He pulls out his dagger. "I will vouch for her, her people, and her dragons, in accordance with the law." He slices his palm and holds the bloody limb up to the merchant of spices, then to the rest of the Elders.

"Be it on your head!" The merchant cries, and turns to walk with his friends. Xaro addresses us, a warm smile on his face.

"Welcome to Qarth, my Ladies." The Thirteen part and the gates open, revealing a truly magnificent city. As we walk towards it, I notice a slender bald man staring at us. The smile he gives me makes my skin crawl. And suddenly I fear we have walked into a trap.

* * *

 **High Valyrian:**

 **Daenerys, ēza vokēdre. -** Daenerys, have faith.

 **Dothraki** :

 **Shekh heshtith nem menat, Khalakki.** \- The southeast is empty, Princess.

 **Yer chomoe anna.** \- You do honor to me.

 **Me nem vos yeri ziyenelat.** \- It is not your fault.

 **Anha jif zhorre dothras alikh.** \- I should have ride more.

 **Vo. Yer dothras chek, qoy qoyi.** \- No. You ride well, blood of my blood.

 **Athmithrar ajjin, Aggo.** \- Rest now, Aggo.

 **San athchomari yeraan, Khalakki.** \- A lot of honour to you, Princess [a thank you]

 **Khalakki. Laz anha qoralat Davvi?** \- Princess. Can I hold Davvi?

 **Jin vos sajo yeri.** \- This is not your horse.

 **Me nem azh anhaan ki Senthisir. Jin Fozaki Qarthoon.** \- It was given to me by the Thirteen. The Elders of Qarth.

 **Zhey Qarth?** \- Qarth?

 **Sen asshekhi tithaan, qisi havazzhifi.** \- Three days to the east, on the sea.

 **Hash mori vazhi kishaan emralat?** \- Will they let us in?

 **Mori astish memori nem achomoe hash mori viddee Mayes Zhavvorsi, ma zhey Khalakki.** \- They said they would be honored to receive the Mother of Dragons, and the Princess.


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, I've decided to try something new! As translating takes forever and there's way too much of it, here's the new policy: if it's bold, it's the "Dothraki" conversation. I** **talicized is the "Valyrian" conversation. No text change means the conversation was in common tongue/English** **. As always, I only own Jae and Davvi the dragon. Enjoy, and sorry for the late update! Thank you for your patience!**

 **Also, for** **Sinner2016, they are fraternal. Jae has the violet Targaryen eyes while Dany's are the show's blue. She's also has a slightly smaller but more muscular frame than her sister.**

* * *

I sit on the ledge of my sister's balcony, feeling the cool breeze brush against my skin. Daavi rests on my lap, purring gently. My sister and Dorothea lean by me, staring at Drogon. Dany sets down a small cube of meat, staring at the small beast. " _Dracarys_." My sister orders softly. It's High Valyrian for "Dragonfire", our mother tongue still the best way to communicate with our children.

Drogon squeaks, making a small chittering sound before his mouth opens and a small fire streams out, cooking the raw meat. My sister and Dorothea giggle, smiling as he picks up the grilled food and slides it down his throat. Daavi just gives me an unimpressed look, having shown off her fire three days ago.

We've been in Qarth for five days, receiving similar treatment from Xaro as Illyrio once gave. I can tell my sister enjoys it, not having experienced luxury since her wedding to Drogo. I on the other hand had grown used to the constant movement and living off of what we could find. But I have to admit, it is nice to have settled down. If only until we figure out what to do next.

"He'll able to feed himself from now on." My sister proudly states, a grin on her face as she stands. She starts to walk away, but notices her handmaid reaching over towards the bowl of meat. "Let him sleep, Dorothea." She orders, and I giggle at the other girls face.

"Yes, Khaleesi." She smiles back at me and puts Drogon in his cage.

"He loves you." My sister comments, walking over to Irri.

Picking up a piece of meat with my fingers I hold it out. " _Dracarys_." I whisper. Daavi hisses and blows, the heat licking at the tips of my fingers but not burning me. Once the cube is charred she leans her neck out, grabbing it from my grasp. I laugh as she swallows it, then gently licks away the juice before crawling onto my shoulder.

" **I rewove part of the top** **.** " I hear Irri say, and turn to see she's fixed on of my sister's Dothraki outfits. "And I fixed the heel on this one." She holds up a boot, then turns to me. " **I am sorry, Princess, but I have not fixed yours yet.** "

" **Do not worry, Irri.** " I smile at the girl. " **My clothes are not yet uncomfortable.** "

"Thank you, my friend." My sister says in the common tongue.

"Did you see the dress Xaro had made for you?" Dorothea asks, crossing over to the bed and holding up a light blue silk dress with gold sewn along the shoulders. "I believe there is a red one waiting for you in your room, Princess. They say he's the wealthiest man in Qarth." Dorothea tells us.

"It is known." Irri agrees, and I stand, Daavi nuzzling the top of my head with hers.

"And if Qarth is the wealthiest city in Essos…" Dorothea starts, but my sister interrupts her.

"The last time a wealthy man gave us dresses, he was selling me to Khal Drogo." Her voice goes soft, and I lay I hand on her shoulder.

" **May he ride forever through the night lands.** " Irri prays, and I nod in agreement.

" **He will, Irri.** "

My sister turns back to Dorothea. "Xaro is our host, but we know nothing about him." She comments. "Men like to talk about other men when they're happy."

Dorothea nods her head, smugly understanding what Dany is telling her. She lays the dress back onto the bed, carefully. "You would look like a real princess in Xaro's…"

"She's not a princess. She's a Khaleesi." Irri passionately interrupts. My sister looks at her calmly, and she becomes less aggressive, sighing. "You should wear it, Khaleesi. You are their guest. It would be rude not to." Irri walks towards the next room where my sister stores her clothes, and I kiss Dany on the cheek.

"I am going to change as well. But I will meet you downstairs soon enough."

"Of course, Jae." My sister squeezes my hand and I wave goodbye to Dorothea, leaving my sister's room to walk down the hall. Kovarro steps aside to allow me in, a faithful guardian. Daavi purrs in his direction, getting a bowed head from my bloodrider.

Like my sister my room is open aired, with curtains on my large four-postered bed. The matching red and gold silk dress lies against the silk sheets, a pair of tan sandals next to them. A golden belt rests on top of the outfit.

Daavi's cage sits on the table beside my bed, and I carefully let her in. She nuzzles my hand first, and I sigh sadly as I lock the small door behind her.

There is something about Qarth that makes me feel different. Not more welcome or comfortable than any other city. It's what I've felt since we arrived at the gates, something I have yet to tell Jorah or my sister. The dreams come to me every night, always me and Daavi in a never-ending winding hall, opening a door that leads to Aegor Rivers and Massey's Hook. I reach out for Blackfyre, then I awaken, panting and sweating despite the cool breeze that comes in the morning.

With a sigh, I toss my body back onto my bed, clothes next to me. I stare up at the ceiling now, wondering what it all means. If Xaro proves himself trustworthy, perhaps I can ask him?

* * *

I find myself lost in my thoughts for nearly an hour before I hear the voices from the garden below us. I suppose the guests have begun arriving for Xaro's welcoming party. Grabbing my new outfit I walk behind the changing screen, letting the white silk wrap fall from my body, leaving me almost naked. I maneuver the dress over my head and let it fall over me, smiling as the cool material flows around my tan skin, covering only my breasts and leaving the middle of my chest exposed. Leaving my clothes where they are I walk to a nearby mirror and fix my hair, undoing the braids and letting my silver curls move freely.

After attaching my belt and lacing my sandals I leave my room, Kovarro following me as I walk down to Xaro's garden, where various members of Qarth are visiting to pay respect to the Targaryen Princesses.

I find my sister quickly and we walk together, introduced to a woman with brown and gold hair and her husband. Irri awkwardly stands to the side and converses with Aggo, but my sister and I watch as Dorothea works her magic, getting the men she's talking to smile and hopefully reveal the truth about Xaro.

I refocus on the woman as she laughs. "And you two must visit the night market. The Qartheen night market is like no other night market you've ever seen." The woman tells us.

"It sounds wonderful." My sister responds, bright smile on her face.

"The Meereenis think they have a night market." The woman scoffs. "I will take you there myself."

Noticing something troubling in the distance I nudge my sister, who follows my gaze.

"Please, excuse us for a moment." I say with a smile, curtsying respectfully before rushing towards the Dothraki standing far too close to a golden peacock statue.

"What are they doing?" My sister ask an amused Ser Jorah.

"Malakko says the statue is too heavy to carry." The man nods in agreement, and I hide my laugh behind my hand. "Kovarro says that Malakko is an idiot." Jorah further explains, my sister looking at our bloodrider in shock. "They can pry out the gems, the rest is pure gold. Very soft. He can chop off as much as we can carry."

" **Or melt it. Very simple.** " Kovarro tells us.

While I'm very much amused and in agreement with the men, my sister is not. And as Khaleesi, she gets the final say. " **We are his guests!** " She admonishes. " **You can't pry it or chop it or melt it.** "

" **Of course not, Khaleesi! We will wait until we leave.** " Kovarro states.

My sister shakes her head in annoyance. " **Not even when we leave.** "

" **Why not?** " Kovarro asks, like a child, and Jorah and I exchange amused glances.

" **Our host saved us from the Red Waste and you want to steal from him?** " My sister asks in return. " **I will hear no more.** " Kovarro bows his head and returns his knife to its sheath before he and Malakko walk away, the former taking a golden cup and tossing the wine from inside.

"Perhaps they have the right idea." I wonder, my sister rolling her eyes at me.

"And that goes for you, as well." She then turns to Jorah. "Our brother used to say the only thing the Dothraki knew how to do is steal things better men have built." We start to walk away as well, leaving the golden bird behind us.

"It's not the only thing." Jorah says, and we look up at him. "They're quite good at killing the better men." He comments, and I laugh.

"Aye. They truly are."

My sister only shakes her head. "That's not the kind of queen I'm going to be."

"Mother of Dragons. Dragonmother." A man interrupts us, and my sister and I both turn to see a tall bald man. He's a member of the Thirteen. "On behalf of the warlocks of Qarth, I welcome you." He says, walking up to us and bows his head. "A demonstration?" He holds out his hand. My sister and I reach out to take it, and he puts a gem in each of our hands, confusing us. "Take these gems. Look at them." We do as he asks. "Into its depths. So many facets. Look close enough, and you can see yourself in them." We look closer, and I see my reflection staring back at me, giving me a wink. "Often more than once." The same man speaks, but from a different location, and my sister and I look up to see the warlock standing in two places at once. "Should you grow tired of Xaro's baubles and trinkets," the man closest tells us, "it would be an honor to host you at the House of the Undying. You two are always welcome. I think you will find," he looks at me, "it holds the answers to what you most question." He takes the gems and the two identical men walk away, the guest applauding.

"My apologies." Xaro says, approaching us. "Pyat Pree is one of the Thirteen. It was customary for me to extend him an invitation." The large man explains, and I smile warmly.

"Of course. He was no problem."

"Still, customs die slow deaths in Qarth." Xaro further apologizes.

"What is the House of the Undying?" My sister asks, Jorah stroking his chin in thought.

"It is where the warlocks go to squint at dusty books and drink shade of the evening." Xaro explains, skeptical. "It turns their lips blue and their minds soft. So soft, they actually believe their parlor tricks are magic."

We laugh and he steps between us, a hand on each of our backs as we are led through the gardens, introduced to new people. But while I look at these strangers and nod when they speak, my mind is elsewhere. It is on this Pyat Pree, and his House of the Undying. While Xaro may be skeptical, my sister and I have witnessed magic firsthand.

"I think you will find it holds the answers to what you most question." That is what he said to me. Me. He was not looking to Dany when he said it. So does that mean he knows what my dreams are saying? That the House of the Undying is the secret resting place of one of my family's long lost swords? Or is he indeed soft-minded from shade of the evening, and simply trying to lure me in?

One thing is for certain; someway or another, I will have to see this House of the Undying myself, no matter what anyone else has to say about it. I need to know if what is calling to me truly exists. I need to know if Blackfyre is my destiny.

* * *

The sun has set, but the party still continues. Xaro leads us around the perimeter of his land, talking aimlessly before turning to my sister. "So, tell me. How long has your manservant been in love with you?" He asks, Dany at a loss for words.

"He's not my manservant, and he's not in love with me." She looks to me for support and I nod. Jorah's truth is not mine to tell, after all. "He's my advisor, my friend. To the both of us." My sister includes me, and I take her arm.

"Unlikely." Xaro says. "I can almost always tell what a man wants."

"And what about what a woman wants?" I ask, peering over to stare up at the man.

"Much more complicated." He admits. "You, for example, what do you want?" Xaro asks me.

I shrug. "For my sister to be happy and return home."

"But you do not want to?" He aks, and Dany looks at me for an answer.

I just stare up at him. "What I want is not important at the moment. But crossing the narrow sea and taking back the Iron Throne is, so that is what I will do. It isn't always about what we personally want."

He nods his head in respect, my sister looking at me sadly. "Why do you want to go to Westeros?" Xaro then asks Dany.

"Because I promised my khalasar I'd protect them and find them a safe home."

The man chuckles. "You want to conquer the Seven Kingdoms for the Dothraki?"

"I want them because they're mine by right." My sister finally admits. "The Iron throne is mine, and I will take it."

"Ah, a conqueror." Xaro looks down at me, smiling. "You, you are a fighter, though. A warrior. Free hearted."

"And how did you get all of this? Did someone give it to you?" Dany asks our host.

"No." He tells us. "I come from nothing. I hit the docks like a piece of cargo, except someone normally cares what happens to cargo."

"So you wanted more than you had and you took it. You're a conqueror too, you're just less ambitious." My sister tells him. Xaro laughs again, and she becomes more serious. "What do you want, Xaro Xhoan Daxos?" She asks. "At the gates of the city you bled for us. Why?"

"I will show you two why." He answers, holding out his hands. We take one and he leads us inside, down to the bowels of his homs and a large vault. Taking out his sword, he slashes at the door. "The door and the vault is made of Valyrian stone." He tells us. "The hardest steel does not make a mark." He slashes his blade against it once more. "I offered the greatest locksmiths in Qarth their weight in gold if they could break into it. I made the same offer to the greatest thieves." I reach out my hand and touch the cold stone. "They all went home empty-handed." He finishes, proudly. "The only thing that can open this door is this key." I turn and watch as he lifts his amulet, showing it to us.

"And behind the door?" My sister asks. Xaro chuckles. "And it can all be ours?" She aks.

"All? Let us say thirds." We turn to him. "One share for me, the other two for you. More than enough to buy horses, ships, armies… Enough to go home."

"And what is the price for it?" I ask.

He looks down at us. "One of you must marry me. It doesn't matter which."

Before my sister can say anything, I snort. "A romantic proposal."

"I've already married for love," he tells us, "but the gods stole her from me. I come from nothing. My mother and father never owned a pair of shoes. But marry me, and I shall give you the Seven Kingdoms. Any of our children will be princes and princesses." My sister looks back at the vault. "See? I have more ambition than you thought. It is your time, Daenerys Targaryen, first of your name." He looks to us. "Robert Baratheon is dead. The Seven Kingdoms are at war, with four 'kings' fighting for the throne. It is your birthright. So what do you say."

Before my sister can answer, I stop her once more. I look up at Xaro. "I will marry you, Xaro."

"Jaenarys -"

I interrupt Dany. "Stop. You sacrificed so much for our brother. Let me sacrifice something for you."

"Your freedom?" She whispers, and I take her hand.

"It is second to what we must do." I take Xaro's outstretched hand, shaking it to make a deal.

"We can be married when you wish. But it must be sooner, rather than later."

I nod in agreement. "Very well. But you best remember, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, I know how to kill."

"Understood, Princess Jaenarys." He bows his head at me, and inside I sigh in defeat. Because I know there will be no true love to be found here, not like with Drogo and Dany. And my freedom is flying away, leaving me trapped in the fate I wanted least. But the look on my sister's face tells me I've made the right decision. The only question is, for whom?


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, I've decided to try something new! As translating takes forever and there's way too much of it, here's the new policy: if it's bold, it's the "Dothraki" conversation. I** **talicized is the "Valyrian" conversation. No text change means the conversation was in common tongue/English** **. As always, I only own Jae and Davvi the dragon. Enjoy, and sorry for the late update! Thank you for your patience!**

 **Also, for** **Sinner2016, they are fraternal. Jae has the violet Targaryen eyes while Dany's are the show's blue. She's also has a slightly smaller but more muscular frame than her sister.**

* * *

Any wedding plans were put on hold by Ser Jorah, who when speaking in private to my sister told her he would find a ship on his own. Then we'd sail to Westeros, and when their support, not come over with an army from another land. And so Jorah took off, in search of what he promised her. I couldn't tell Dany this, but I am relieved. Still, it has not stopped Xaro from courting me, taking me around Qarth with his servants.

Daavi nuzzles into me at night, as I am keen to not keep her caged as I may be. She is my anchor, and I look to her when I wake in the middle of the night, sweat pouring down my face as my body shudders. This time Blackfyre was singing to me, glowing vibrantly. But just as I reached my hand to the hilt, closer than I've ever been before now, I woke up, dragged from the dream.

"He should make us wait." I hear my sister say, shaking me from my thoughts. She paces around the grand entrance of the merchant's home, Xaro standing near the steps and I against a pillar.

"The Spice King," _ah, so he isn't a merchant_ _,_ "is the second wealthiest man in Qarth. He makes everyone wait." Xaro tells us, still bitter that we are not yet married. "Of course, you could have avoided this embarrassment if you allowed your sister to marry the wealthiest man in Qarth."

"She does not need to marry you for me. Besides, I already have a husband." Dany says, as though I'm not there. While they aren't looking I briefly open my silk robe, smiling down at where Daavi is spread at my hips, hidden from view. I close the robe gently, not wanting to draw attention to my precious child. If I trusted this place more, I would have left her behind. But I don't, so I didn't.

"Khal Drogo is gone, Khaleesi." Xaro says. "Besides, you are far too young and beautiful to remain a widow forever. If you do not wish for your sister to marry me, you are more than able to yourself."

"You are far too smart to think that I will succumb to flattery." My sister argues back, continuing to pace.

"Dany, I told you and Jorah, it would be alright. I'm more than happy -"

"I will not sell you like Viserys sold me." She argues back, and I nod. "I won't."

"Okay." I nod.

Xaro only sighs. "I have traveled very far in my life and met many women, but none that are immune to flattery."

I snort, straightening from my spot and feeling Daavi climb under my hair, resting in the hood of my robe. "Well, now you have."

"The Mother of Dragons, and the Dragonmother!" We hear the man from the city gates call, and look up to see the extravagant merchant descending with some servants.

"Ah, here he comes." Xaro softly announces, irritated.

"Forgive me. I had terrible dreams last night. Terrible dreams." The Spice King tells us. "I could not sleep until the sun was shining and the birds were singing." I roll my eyes.

 _What an overdramatic cunt._

"Look what a beauty you two are." The man continues. "Now that the Red Waste has been washed off. I am sorry about all that unpleasantness." He apologizes, and somehow I don't think he was being sincere. "The silver hair of true Targaryens. I see only the Dragonmother was gifted with your family's violet eyes." The man observes. "A rarity, I assure you." He begins walking down the stairs. "Xaro Xhoan Daxos, they are far too lovely for a glorified dockworker like yourself."

"Very true." Xaro tells him. "And yet they say that your grandfather, who sold pepper off the back of a wagon, married a lady far lovelier and higher born than himself." I hide my grin by ducking my head.

"Every lady alive was lovelier and higher born than my grandfather." The Spice King announces. His servants began to laugh, and my sister clears her throat. "Did my servants not offer you something to eat, to drink?" The man asks. "I'll have them flogged in the square."

"Thank you, my lord." My sister calls. "You are a gracious host, but there is no servant alive that can bring us what I want." I walk forward with her, and though I'm silent I feel fire rushing through my body.

"Oh, she has a talent for drama, this one."

"As do you." I bite back, glaring up at the man with my violet eyes. "I've never been one for dramatics, though."

"Of course." He bows, pretending to be respectful. "So, my little princesses, what is it you want?"

"My birthright."

"Her birthright." We answer at the same time.

"The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." Dany adds.

"I fear I'm no better than a servant in this regard." The Spice King states. "I cannot give you what I do not have."

"We're not asking you for the kingdoms. We're asking you for ships. We need to cross the Narrow Sea."

"I need my ships as well." The Spice Merchant argues. "I use them, you see, to being spices from one port to another." I roll my eyes.

"Whatever you grant us now will be repaid three times over when I retake the Iron Throne."

"Retake?" The man asks. "Did you once sit on the Iron Throne?"

"Our father sat there, before he was murdered."

"But if you did not sit on it yourself, would it not be correct to say 'take the Iron Throne'?"

I growl and step forward. "Listen to me, you fat excuse of a man." He steps back, offended. "Perhaps we were unclear. You will give us the ships, or we will come back here and burn your precious spices and gold."

"We didn't come here to argue grammar." My sister adds.

"No, you came here, as your sister directly stated, to take my ships! So let me explain my position, little princesses." He walks down some more steps. "Unlike you, I do not have exalted ancestors. I make my living by trade. And I judge every trade on its merits. You ask for ships. You say I shall be repaid triple. I do not doubt your honesty or your intentions. But before you repay your debts, you must seize the Seven Kingdoms. Do you have an army?"

"Not yet." My sister says.

"You do not have an army. Do you have powerful allies in Westeros?"

"There are many there that support my claim!"

"When were you there last?"

"We left when we were babies."

"So, in truth, you have no allies."

"The people will rise to fight for their rightful queen when we return."

"Ah." The man points at her, and the more I argue the angrier I get, receiving small growls from Daavi as well. "Forgive me, little princesses, but I cannot make an investment based on wishes and dreams. Now, if you'll pardon me."

"Do you know Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of Pentos?" I ask, voice even but eyes burning. The man turns back around.

"Yes, we've met. A shrewd man."

"For my wedding, I received three petrified dragon eggs, and my sister one." Dany tells him. He believed, the world believed, that the ages had turned them to stone. How many centuries had it been since dragons roamed the skies? But we dreamt that if we carried those eggs into a great fire, they would hatch. When we stepped into the fire, our own people thought we were mad. But when the fire burned out, we were unhurt, the Mother of Dragons and the Dragonmother." My sister passionately announces. "Do you understand?" She asks, walking up to him. "We're no ordinary women. Our dreams come true."

"I admire your passion." The Spice King leans down. "But in business I trust in logic, not passion. I'm sorry, little princesses."

"We are not your little princesses! We are Daenerys Stormborn and Jaenarys Fireborn of the blood of Old Valyria," the man begins to walk away, and I grow angrier as my sister yells louder after him, "and we will take what is mine. With fire and blood, we will take it."

"Yes, my Lady, but not with my ships."

"Enough!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the walls. The Spice King stops walking, and my sister grows quiet and looks at me, having never heard me shout as loud as I just did. "I grow tired of your arrogance and your supposed wisdom. I am bored with your treatment of us as mere little girls. You say you won't give us your ships? Fine. Then I guess you just missed out on the greatest business deal of all time. You see," I walk up the stairs, the man staring at me, afraid, "we will take back Westeros, without your help. And when my dragon grows, I will personally fly back and burn your ships and your precious spices. Would you like to see how?" I whistle, and Davvi comes out of my hood, standing on my shoulder. The Spice King and his servants stare in wonder and fear. I hold up a small piece of gold. "Dracarys." I mutter, and Davvi opens her mouth, a small stream of fire shooting out and melting the gold so it drips onto the stairs. The merchant and his servants all gasp, becoming more terrified. When the dragonfire stops, Davvi gives me a pleased look and crawls back into my hood. The merchant stares at me, round face pale. "Imagine what she'll be able to do when she grows?" I ask, and he doesn't answer. I smirk. "Have pleasant dreams tonight, Spice King."

With that I walk down the stairs, my sister following me in silence.

When Xaro leads us outside she turns to me. "I cannot believe you brought Davvi with you!"

I shrug. "I didn't want to leave her alone."

"Take her back at once. Xaro and I can finish this ourselves." My sister declares, and I shake my head.

"No. I am coming with you. You cannot tell me that you wouldn't have done the same thing if you brought Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal with you." I point out, and she crosses her arm in frustration.

"Fine. But I will do all the talking, and Davvi stays hidden." My sister tells me.

"Of course."

She then takes my arm, smiling. "Though I have to say, the look on that man's face was quite pleasing."

I laugh with her, and we continue on our way, hoping our visit to the silk trader goes better.

* * *

"The Spice King refuses us because we are a bad investment. The Silk King won't support us because of his business with the Lannisters. Why offend his best customer?" My sister scoffs out as we walk back to Xaro's home, Kovarro walking behind us. "And the Copper King offers us a single ship on the condition that we _both_ lie with him for a night. Does he think we will whore ourselves for a boat?"

"I think he was hoping we would." I say as I wrinkle my nose, hoping to forget that man soon.

"When I came to this city, I had nothing. Truly nothing." Xaro tells us, leading us down some steps. "I slept by the docs. And when I could find work loading the ships, I would eat. If not, I dreamed of food. Today, I am the richest man in Qarth. Do you think path from poverty to wealth is always pure and honorable? I have done many things, Khaleesi, that a righteous man would condemn. And here I am, with no regrets." We reach the door, but before we can step through, Davvi climbs onto my shoulder.

" _What is wrong?_ " I ask in Valyrian as she chitters nervously. Xaro quickly opens the door, and what we find is absolutely heartbreaking.

The members of our khalasar who waited behind, choosing not to go with either us or Jorah are lying dead on the ground, throats slashed and blood in puddles. My sister and I look around in horror, my dragon now shrieking.

Looking at each other, we dash up the steps, ignoring Xaro and Kovarro as we run. "Where are they?" Dany cries as the bells ring, her three dragon cages open and bare. Irri lays on the floor and I yell, running to her. Davvi crawls down and rests on her still chest and I cradle the now dead handmaid in my arms, Dorothea nowhere to be seen.

As I sob for Irri and the other innocents, my sister falls to her knees and glares over at Xaro. "Where are my dragons?!" She cries out, the men around us in shock.

Davvi crawls back onto my arm, nestling into my chest, and I take my sister's hand as we hold Irri.  
Whoever did this will pay. They will burn. Even if it's the last thing I do, I'll make them burn. No one kills those I love and takes from my sister without feeling my wrath. In fire and blood, they will pay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright, I've decided to try something new! As translating takes forever and there's way too much of it, here's the new policy: if it's bold, it's the "Dothraki" conversation. I** **talicized is the "Valyrian" conversation. No text change means the conversation was in common tongue/English** **. As always, I only own Jae and Davvi the dragon. Enjoy, and sorry for the late update! Thank you for your patience!**

 **Also, for** **Sinner2016, they are fraternal. Jae has the violet Targaryen eyes while Dany's are the show's blue. She's also has a slightly smaller but more muscular frame than her sister.**

 **Also, oops, just realized I've been spelling the other handmaid's name wrong. Whoops. Sorry Doreah.**

* * *

Dany and I stand in her room, having shared it since yesterday when the massacre occurred and her dragons were stolen. I have an arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she tearfully stares at the empty cages while stroking Davvi's back. Hearing footsteps and panting we both turn to see Jorah standing by the curtains, out of breath. "You came back." My sister says.

"As soon as I heard." He responds. "Do you know anything?"

"Irri is dead." Dany says, and I look away.

"I know. She was a good -"

"She's dead." My sister interrupts her. "She died alone. She died for us and we couldn't protect her." I look at the ground, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Doreah?" He asks.

I shake my head. "We can't find her. She's probably dead, too." I look away, my sister still holding Davvi.

"I led our people out of the Red Waste and into the slaughterhouse."

Tears fall down my cheeks. "No, Dany. We didn't."

"Look around, hāedar. This was a slaughter." My sister declares.

"I should have been here." Jorah declares.

"You went to find me a ship." Dany sadly reminds him.

"My place is by your side." He walks over to where she stands. "I shouldn't have left you two alone with these people." He turns to me and opens his arms and I rush to him, crying into his dirty tunic.

"'These people'?" My sister asks.

"They are not to be trusted."

"And who is to be trusted?" Dany asks once more. "Who are our people? The Targaryens? We only knew one other, our brother. And he would have let a thousand men rape us if it had got him the crown." She declares, and Jorah releases me. I walk over to my sister and wordlessly take Davvi, holding her to my chest. "The Dothraki? Most of them turned on my the day Khal Drogo fell from his horse."

"Your people are in Westeros." Jorah tells her.

"The people in Westeros don't know we're alive!" My sister declares, and I take her hand to anchor her.

"They will soon enough."

"And then what?" I finally ask, looking up at him. "They'll pray for our return?"

"They'll wave dragon flags and shout our names?" My sister continues for me. "That's what our brother believed and he was a fool." She drops my hand and storms over to her bed. Jorah follows her, but I rest by the balcony, petting Davvi.

"You are not your brother. Trust me, Khaleesi."

"There it is." She crosses her arms. "'Trust me.' And it's you we should trust, Ser Jorah? Only you?" she briefly glances over her shoulder before looking forward once more. "I don't need trust any longer. I don't want it, and I don't have room for it. Neither of us." Dany looks at me. "You are still with me? Even though I've failed."

"You have not failed." I shake my head, rushing over to her and wrapping my arms around her.

"You are too young to be so…" Jorah also walks up to her, but my sister interrupts.

"And you are too familiar!" She snaps at him. He removes his hand, confused by her outburst.

He steps back. "Forgive me, Khaleesi. Princess." He looks at us. "But no one can survive in this world without help. No one. Let me help you, please." He begs. "Tell me how."

"Find my dragons." She orders and he nods, rushing away.

"He's right, you know." I whisper, stepping away from her with Davvi holding onto my neck. My sister glares at me.

"I should have taken them with me like you did. Why was your dragon spared but not mine?" She asks, storming away from me and into her other room. I sigh and leave her chambers, slowly walking towards my own. My sister was right about Westeros, finally understanding what she wants is going to be harder than the lies other men told our brother. However, taking Westeros will not be impossible, not if we have our dragons.

* * *

While Ser Jorah goes in search of what has been stolen, Xaro has called the rest of the Thirteen to his home. My sister and I stand on each side of Xaro, Davvi standing up on my shoulder in a warning way. "I did not leave the comfort of my home to come to yours and be called a thief." The Spice King argues, offended. I simply raise an eyebrow at him and he swallows his tongue, looking away.

"No one is calling you a thief."

"Who are they to accuse us?" He cries out.

"Please, they're my children. I'm begging you." My sister pleads.

"Begging us? It wasn't very long ago you were threatening us." One of the Thirteen reminds us.

"Without me, the dragons will die!" My sister pushes through.

"It will be for the best." I step forward as the Spice King says this. "Your dragons will bring the world nothing but death and misery, my dear. If I knew where they were, I would not tell you." He turns his gaze to me. "It is bad enough yours it still around."

I growl and slam my fist down in front of him, his goblet falling over and spilling its contents. "I suggest you start speaking to us with respect. Do not threaten our children." He gulps and I walk back towards Xaro and my sister.

"You are cruel, my friend." I hear Pyat Pree say and turn around. His gaze is focused on the Spice King. "The Mother of Dragons is in the right." He argues. "She must be reunited with her babies." A servant picks up the Spice King's goblet and pours him some more wine. "I will help you, Khaleesi." Pyat promises. Then he looks to me. "I will help you both."

"How?" My sister asks.

"I will take you to the House of the Undying where I have put them."

"You have my dragons?" Dany steps forward, and I close my eyes. My gods, I am an idiot. How could I have not seen it?

"Yes. And a certain family heirloom that was once lost, calling to you." He looks at me, then his beady eyes return to my sister. "When I learned you were coming to our city, I made an arrangement with the King of Qarth." The Thirteen begin to laugh. Pyat Pree only continues. "He procured them for me." I turn to Xaro, reaching for my sword and pulling it out. My sister doesn't understand, though, and doesn't notice I'm holding my weapon.

"But there is no King of Qarth!" She declares.

Xaro stands, and steps towards her. "There is now. That was the other half of the arrangement." Our host - the killer, the thief - walks to the other Thirteen. "You would keep your gates and your minds closed to everything outside your walls." I look back at Kovarro, who had raised his arakh when he saw the blade in my hand. "Qarth cannot remain the greatest city that ever was if it refuses to change."

"While I admire your objective, why take my sister's dragons? Why kill our khalasar?" I ask, stepping in front of Dany, Davvi chittering.

The man ignores me, though, in favor of finishing his speech. "I will open Qarth to the world as I have forced it to open itself to me." Xaro promises. Pyat Pree leaves the table and stands beside his partner.

"Your ambition is an inspiration. But like all upstarts, you overreach. Three dragons the size of cats, and an alliance with a charlatan do not make you a king." The Spice King argues.

"An upstart and a charlatan?" Xaro asks. "Empires have been built by less. Those on the margins often come to control the center, and those in the center make room for them, willingly or otherwise." Xaro steps back and I hold my sword to his throat, but he remains unbothered. He cooly watches Pyat Pree step forward.

"The Mother of Dragons will be with her babies. The Dragonmother shall hold Blackfyre and ride her own child." The man turns back to us. "They will give them their love, and the dragons will thrive by their sides. Forever." Immediately the servants come forward and slit the throats of the remaining Thirteen. They reveal themselves to be Pyat Pree. Eleven extra. Finally shaken from my stupor, I swing my blade back to take Xaro's head.

But my weapon shatters in the air, not having hit anything. I throw the hilt at Pyat, but his unbothered. Dany grabs my hand and drags me towards the exit, only for another Pyat to stand in the doorway. "A mother should be with her children." He says, only to be stabbed through the gut by Jorah, who has returned just in time. Cloth falls to the ground, the man vanishing in air. Kovarro stands on one side of us, Jorah the other, and we turn to see yet another Pyat. "Where will you run, Daenerys Stormborn and Jaenarys Fireborn? Your dragons and blade wait for you in the House of the Undying. Come see them."

Davvi roars as loud as she can, but Kovarro whisks me after my sister and Jorah, my whole body shaking.

We run out the doors and into the sunlight, and I almost wish we were back in the Red Waste than trapped in this strange city. I hold Davvi close to me as we run, and I don't dare look back at Xaro's home, having lost yet another sanctuary.

* * *

After running for hours, we find abandoned ruins. Deciding to rest here, the four of us disperse in the small space, making sure we are truly alone. "Careful Khaleesi, Princess." Jorah warns as we look through a boarded up area surrounded with vines. "Xaro owns this city and the warlocks have a thousand eyes watching for you." We turn and join him, Kovarro sitting down on some steps polishing his unused arakh. "I found one. A ship, with a good captain." He quietly explains. "She leaves for Astapor tomorrow."

"Astapor?" My sister asks, and I run my finger under Davvi's neck, my tired girl purring.

"We cannot stay here."

"They have my dragons. A mother does not flee without her children."

"We still have Davvi. And they're not your children." Jorah whispers back. "I know they call you the Mother of Dragons and Dragonmother, and I know you love them, but you didn't grow them in your womb. They didn't suckle at your breasts. They are dragons! And if we stay in Qarth, we'll die."

I glare up at Jorah. "Sail to Astapor, then. Because these _dragons_ are our _children_. Family does not end in blood."

He turns to my sister, his true leader, his love. But she only shakes her head. "It is as my sister said. You should sail to Astapor, I'm sure you'll be safe there." She turns from him and leans against a tree.

"You know I would die for you. Both of you. I will never abandon you. I'm sworn to protect you, to serve."

"Then serve us." My sister turns to him. "If my dragons are in the House of the Undying then take us there. If there is a sword meant for my sister, evidently calling to her - which we will talk about," she points at me and I nod, slightly scared by her tone, "then you will take us to the House of the Undying."

"That's what the warlock once." Jorah reminds us. "He told you so himself. If you enter that place, you will never leave again. His magic is strong."

"And what of our magic?" Dany asks. "You saw us step into the fire. You watched the witch burn. What did the flames do to su? Do you remember?"

"Until my last breath, I will remember. After I have forgotten my mother's face." He promises. I turn away as my sister holds her hand up to his face, understanding that though my sister may remain blind to his devotion, it is still there.

"They are my children." She tells him, passionately. "And they are the only children I will ever have. Take me to them. Take us there." She begs.

I turn and look up at him, and he twists his head to look at me, nodding. It is time to take back what is ours.


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright, if the words are in bold, they are the "Dothraki" conversations. If they are italicized, they're the "Valyrian".**

 **This is the final chapter of Desert Embers. The third installment of this series will be called "Flares of Freedom". I have yet to write it, but I promise to have the first chapter uploaded in a week. Thank you for your patience, and enjoy this last chapter!**

* * *

" **A house of ghosts, Princess and Khaleesi. It is known.** " Kovarro tells us as we walk up the path towards the House of the Undying, a familiar looking structure. I stop for a moment, and my sister turns to me.

"What is it?"

Daavi makes a noise and nuzzles into my neck as I stare up at the tower. "It's as though I've been here before."

"Your dreams?" My sister guesses.

"I never did tell you what happened, did I?" I respond, softly. She takes my hand and I look at her.

"You can tell me now."

I nod. "I kept seeing this place. Walking these halls. There's a room, it has Blackfyre in it."

"Our family's sword? You've seen it?"

"I hold it. But I also see him. Aegor Rivers. He talks to me about destiny."

She nods. "Then the sword is meant to be yours."

We keep walking, finally reaching the stone steps. " **Where are the guards?** " He nervously twirls his arakh.

" **No guards. The warlocks kill with sorcery, not steel.** " Ser Jorah tells him.

" **Let them try.** " My sister responds, our hands still interlocked. We lead the men up the steps and through a low archway, entering the circular court of the House of the Undying. We breathe heavily. "Is this a riddle?" My sister asks, and I groan.

"I hate riddles." My sister nods at me and we look around, walking. I can hear Jorah walking behind us, but his footsteps fade when we find a doorway. We enter, and I turn with a gasp. "Oh for fuck's sake." I mutter.

My sister nods, then takes a torch from the wall next to us. "Come on. I need to find my dragons."

"And I need to find my blade." She hands me another torch, and we both come to the same realization. "We have to do this alone."

She sighs, then kisses my forehead. I kiss hers in return. "Stay safe."

"You, too. Find your babies."

"Find your sword." With a nod I turn down the opposite hallway as hers. In the distance I hear her yell, "Are you trying to frighten me with magic tricks? You want me? Here I am. Are you afraid of a little girl?"

I snort. There's that Targaryen fire.

The further I get from her, the colder the air gets. The walls turn damp, and I can see my breath. Daavi chitters next to my ear, crawling down my arm. I hear wings flapping and stop moving, looking down.

My daughter flutters her wings, carefully rising from my arm. She falters for a few moments becoming steady, going high enough that she's flying next to my head. I smile. "You are full of wonders, Daavi."

She chitters back, and we keep moving. And I feel my dreams coming true. I can hear the wings, see Daavi's shadow. This must truly be my destiny.

My steps become quieter, and I move slower. As I turn down a hall, torches light up. In the distance I hear dragons screeching, Daavi making her own noise. But I must not follow them. That is not my path, it is my sister's.

Finally, I reach a door. The door. The one from my dream. It's stone, just as before, and more like a wall. Closing my eyes I press against it. It moves back with a hiss, a cool breeze escaping. I turn my head to make sure Daavi is following. She lands on my arm and I walk through the doorway, torch miraculously still lit.

It closes behind me on its own, and dread erupts in my stomach. But I keep moving, walking forward. As my steps further, my feet squelch in mud, and I look around. I'm back on Massey's Hook, only I'm no longer asleep. At least, I don't think I am.

Peering over the edge of the cliff, I see the waters below crashing against the rocky shore. The smell of blood is pungent, and I look around to see the dead littering the wet grass.

In the middle of the chaos stands the man I've come to know. Aegor Rivers's violet eyes bore into mine, and I walk towards him. In his hand is Blackfyre, the lost blade.

"You've found me, Jaenarys." He says, Bittersteel approaching.

"Is this… are you…"

"Am I real? As real as you believe me to be." He answers, as usual in his cryptic way.

I reach out and touch his arm, our flesh touching. I almost expected to pass through him. "You're here. Somehow, thanks to Pyat Pree."

The man's face darkens. "Warlocks are not to be trusted. Always expect more if they offer you help."

"So, this is a trap. Dany and I are in danger. I have to go, I -"

"Walk with me." The man interrupts, and I find myself being pulled away by him. We walk through the bloodsoaked grass, and he leads me past the hill and into a desert, more forgiving than the Red Waste. In the distance I see a great kingdom, a pyramid in the middle.

"What is that place?"

"It will be yours, one day." He answers, and I turn to look at him.

"Mine? I am not a ruler. I am not meant to wear a crown."

"That is your brother talking." Aegor gently reminds me. "Do you truly believe you are only meant to see the world?"

I shake my head. "I do not deserve a throne. I am not worthy."

"And yet you follow your sister, who has no greater a claim than you to rule."

"I do not want Westeros."

"But you can have Essos. This blade," he holds up Blackfyre, "first belonged to the great Targaryen conqueror. Aegon I. It calls to you, now."

"I am no conqueror."

"You are. I've seen it. We've all seen it."

"Who?" I ask. "Who is watching? How do I know they are?"

"Rhaegar looks down at you from beyond. You are much like him."

I blink, twice. I'm imagining things. Pyat Pree has won. I've lost my mind.

"Come. Further." He leads me down a dirt path, silence surrounding us. A forest emerges and we make our way through the thick trees. A couple and a priest stand before us, both man and woman with dark hair. Only the torchlight illuminates their faces, the forest dark. It's night.

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

"I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days." They say to one another, before the man pulls her into a loving kiss.

"What is this?"

"This is what is happening across the sea, Princess."

"And why does it concern me? Who are they?"

"The woman is of Volantis, but it is the man who will come to mean everything to you. It has been written in the stars, as sure as Blackfyre is to be in your hands."

"What do you mean?" The world around me begins to fade, and I hear Daavi nervously chittering. I'd almost forgotten she was with me. "Aegor?" I ask.

The man turns to me, our violet eyes meeting once more. "Our time is up. Take it. It is yours. And remember, we are watching over you."

I nod and hold out my hand, wrapping it around the hilt of the blade. It isn't heavy, and my grip is perfectly lined. It was as though the blade was forged only for me.

As soon as Aegor releases me, the world around us disappears. He is gone, and I am left standing in an empty stone room, the sword still in my hand. I look up, shocked. The hangar is there. My dreams were right - I would find Blackfyre here, held up by a stand. Aegor would speak to me.

I look down at the blade and hold it up, admiring how the metal glints in the torchlight. That is when Daavi begins to fly once more, letting out small roars.

"Daavi?" She flies out the now open door. "Daavi!" I cry after her, and put my blade in my former sword's sheath.

I follow my small dragon down the winding halls, heeled feet clicking on the floor. I don't have time to be careful. I know in my heart that Daavi is leading me to my sister and her dragons. I will not lose the only person I care about. At least, for now.

 _"The man will come to mean everything to you."_ That was what Aegor told me. But who was the man? Why would someone so far away mean anything to me? A stranger.

Any further thoughts are put on hold when I hear the dragons screeching louder.

"You found it."

I turn and see Pyat Pree and pull out my sword faster than the warlock can notice. It slices through him and he turns to air. Sword still out I dash after Daavi, kicking a door open to find my sister in chains, Pyat Pree surrounding her.

"Do not worry. Your sister and her child will keep you company." The man says, and there's a heavy weight on my arms. I look to see my wrists have been cuffed, but twirl my limb so the Valyrian steel cuts through it, then hack at my other one. Daavi lands next to her cousins, behind my sister, and I cut down every Pryat in my path.

" _Dracarys._ " I hear Dany speak. The warlock watches in amusement as they cough. But seconds later, her dragons blow small balls of fire at our captor, burning him.

"Daavi, _Dracarys!_ " I call to my dragon, who flies up and continues to blow streams over at the screaming man. Ignoring the smell of burning flesh and Pyat Pree rolling on the ground I slice down my sister's chains, grinning.

"Maybe I should be 'the Breaker of Chains'." Despite our situation, she rolls her eyes.

"Come one. We have to go." I nod and we follow the flying Daavi out the door, my sister cradling her children in her arms.

* * *

Xaro and Doreah are fast asleep in the man's golden bed, unaware of their own fates. And as much as I will miss the girl, I miss Irri more.

Kovarro reaches over and yanks the key from Xaro's chest with his arakh. The man shoots up, crying out, "What the…"

Doreah wakes up, holding the sheets to her bare chest. Before she can move further my blade sings in the air, resting at her neck. "Princess, Khaleesi, please!" She whimpers. I only look to my sister, who stands beside Jorah. Her dragons are still in her arms, Daavi sitting on my shoulder. "He said you'd never leave Qarth alive." She tries to reason.

"Come." My sister cuts her off, unimpressed and tone flat.

I remove my blade and toss a dress at the traitorous handmaid, following my sister out of Xaro's chambers. We lead them down to the vault Xaro had once shown us and Kovarro presses the key into its lock. He turns it and opens the vault with Jorah's help.

"Where is what you promised us, when I said I'd marry you?" I ask the larger man, referring to the empty vault.

My sister turns from where she's standing to address our host. "Thank you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. Thank you for teaching us this lesson." She nods at a Dothraki, who pushes Xaro past her and into the vault.

"I am king of Qarth. I can help you now, truly help you." Xaro tries. "We can take the iron throne. I'll bring you a thousand ships."

"Khaleesi, please! Please, Princess!" Doreah looks at me, tears falling down her cheeks. I feel my own eyes water and close my mouth, swallowing down any change of heart.

"All that you've dreamed is within your reach!"

"Please, I beg you!" Doreah cries out, the Dothraki pushing her into the vault. The two keep calling to us as Jorah closes the vault, shutting them in. I walk forward and hold my hand to the vault, saying a quick prayer and goodbye from under my breath. Jorah locks the door and hands the key to my sister. We lead what remains of our khalasar up the stairs and into Xaro's chambers, taking everything we can carry.

"It's all a lie." Jorah tells us, looking around.

"Looks real enough to me." I nod at my sister's words.

"Real enough to buy a ship?" I ask our friend, holding up a golden bowl.

"Aye, a small ship." He takes it from my hand as my sister links our arms, leading us from the chambers. Behind us, Jorah gives the Dothraki orders. " **Take all the gold and jewels!** " The Dothraki cheer as my sister and I leave to walk to the gardens, waiting for our people to finish. I pick up a small gold necklace with a ruby pendant and attach it around my neck. My sister smiles, her fingers tracing the ruby at the end of my new sword's hilt. Her dragons purr, nuzzling whatever part of her they can reach. Daavi remains perched on my shoulder, rubbing her head against mine.

"Soon, we shall have our army. And we will go to Westeros." I nod at her words, but my mind is replaying what Aegor showed me, over and over. "What is it?"

I look back over at her. "Nothing. At least, I don't think it was." She nods and looks ahead, and I follow her gaze.

In this moment, all my worries and thoughts of the future cease. Because my sister and her dragons are safe, and we stand together, ready for whatever we must face next.


End file.
